


Sweet Music

by BleedingInk



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Meg Masters Lives, Meg Masters in a Wheelchair, Music, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff, date
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 15:06:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17789648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BleedingInk/pseuds/BleedingInk
Summary: Meg and Castiel plan a Valentine's Day date. Castiel misunderstands some things.





	Sweet Music

It had been fifteen minutes since Sam, Dean and Jack had left them alone to buy some groceries. Meg She was reclined across the Impala’s backseat, with her feet propped up over Castiel’s lap, toying with a lighter she’d probably stolen from one of the Winchesters when he wasn’t looking. She turned it on, stared for a few seconds at the flickering flame, and then capped it odd.

Castiel didn’t mind the silence. It had been a long hunt, even with him, Meg and Jack all helping. He was anxious to get back to the bunker and have some time to relax. Perhaps, he thought as he tentatively put a hand on Meg’s leg, even to spend some time with his favorite demon…

“We should do something for Valentine’s Day.”

Castiel raised his eyes at Meg, surprised.

He’d come to learn that while Meg never expressed her affection or her desire with words, she’d sat on his lap or gently nudge at him or even grab unto the sleeve of his trench coat. She’d protest when he insisted on carrying her or helping her move from her chair to the bed or the car’s backseat, but she never vanished from his arms or tried to push him away, even though, despite the wounds she’d sustained and the state her vessel was in when she came back from the Empty, she still had enough power left to do so.

That’s why it shocked him that she’d suggest something like that. It was even more baffling that she’d do it in such a casual tone of voice, while staring distractedly at her own nails. As if it was the most normal comment for her to make.

“Isn’t that a human tradition to celebrate love?”

“Yes.” Meg shrugged. “Also a very nice excuse to… make some music.”

“Music?” Castiel repeated, his eyebrows tightly knitted into a frown.

Meg hummed and scooted closer to him. In a second, she was on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Yes. Make some _sweet_ music, if you catch my drift.”

“Oh,” Castiel muttered, as she leaned closer to catch his ears between her teeth.

“Would you like that?” she asked, dropping her already husky voice into an even lower whisper. “Come to my apartment, light some candles, eat something nice and…?”

“Make music?” Castiel completed, as a shiver went down his spine.

He was still wondering why they would do something so mundane, but it was hard to focus with her so close. Meg chuckled, her breath tingling on the skin of Castiel’s neck. He instinctively slid a hand underneath her shirt to caress her back. She rarely bothered with underwear, so he could slide his fingers up and down with ease as she started softly grinding her hips against his…

A knock in the glass next to them startled them slightly. Dean leaned next to it, scowling at them.

“How many times do I have to tell you?” he protested when Castiel rolled the window down. “Not in my car!”

“Like you haven’t done worse back here,” Meg protested, but while she didn’t climb down Castiel’s lap, she stopped what she was doing a second before, to his chagrin.

“Yeah, well. There’s children present!”

Jack climbed on the backseat next to them and shot Dean a quizzical look.

“I know about sex, Dean.”

Dean grumbled something while Sam, in the passenger seat, chuckled. Meg, on her part, laughed openly and fist-bumped Jack.

Castiel was a little saddened that they couldn’t continue what they had started, but he knew there was much better to come in a couple of weeks on Valentine’s Day. He’d only have to prepare for it.

 

* * *

 

Meg had her own apartment in Wichita, a three-hour drive from the bunker that Castiel tried to do at least a couple of times every week. He would’ve been happy with her staying in the bunker with them.

“And besides, I don’t want to live in a bunker full of hunters that give me dirty looks. And stairs,” she’d protested, patting her new electric wheelchair. “Those Dicks of Letters really loved stairs.”

Castiel had meant to point out that she could easily teleport up and down whatever stairs bothered her, but he desisted when he realized that wasn’t really the problem. Meg was a lonely creature. She preferred to have her own space, lost in the anonymity of a bigger city, where she could do… whatever it was she did when she wasn’t with them. She was cagey about the exact nature of her activities, but Castiel suspected it involved illegal gambling and the smuggling of certain rare supernatural artifacts she might or might not have stolen from the bunker.

Meg having her own place had other advantages as well. Her neighbors had informed them, rather irately, that their… activities, tended to be very loud. Dean was already crossed whenever he caught Castiel and Meg doing something as innocuous as kissing or holding hands. Castiel couldn’t imagine how irritated he could get should they do what they normally did when they were alone in Meg’s apartment.

On Valentine Day’s night, he let himself inside with his own key. As promised, Meg had set the mood: she’d set several red candles around, so her small living room was bathed in a soft golden glow. There were rose petals spread through the floor and the scent of something cooking meat invaded the apartment. They weren’t humans, they didn’t need food for sustenance, but Meg had been introducing him to some of the pleasures of eating and drinking for the pleasure of it. Along with many other pleasures.

He placed the things he’d brought along with him over the table and took off his trench coat to hang it from the back of a chair.

“Meg?” he called out.

Meg came out of her bedroom and smirked at him with blood red lips. Castiel was suddenly struck with overwhelming awe. Her long blonde hair fell soft and shiny over her naked shoulders and she’d done something to her skin to make it seem blushed and radiant. She had put on a very short black dress that revealed most of her long shapely legs, ending in shoes with vertiginous heels.

“Well, Clarence,” she said, rolling her chair until she was just in front of him, but far enough that he could appreciate her outfit. “What do you think?”

Castiel was thinking he wanted to pick her up and carry her back to the bedroom right that instant, but he didn’t want all the effort she’d put into making them dinner go to waste. He was also thinking he must have looked sorely disheveled in comparison.

He leaned over and left a peck on the edge of her lips.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered.

He was about to stand up and offer to help her set the table, but she caught his tie and pulled him down for a longer, hungrier kiss. The heat of her mouth, paired with the ambience she’d created, were definitely working against his self-control.

“We should…” Meg started, but her eyes wandered off to the table. “What is that?”

“Uh… Cabernet,” Castiel said, blinking and trying to concentrate on the reality.

“No, not the wine, Castiel.” Meg approached the table and pointed. “I mean, that.”

“Oh.” Castiel pulled from the collar of his shirt. “It’s a violin.”

Meg stared at him with her eyes growing wider, then back at the case resting right next to the bottle.

“Gonna go with why?” she asked after a few seconds of stunned silence.

“Well… you said you wanted to make music.”

Meg stared at him… and then threw her head back, a full body laughter shaking her as she did.

That wasn’t the reaction Castiel was expecting. He took a few steps backwards and tried not to sound sulky when he said:

“I take it… that wasn’t what you meant.”

“No, you silly angel!” she exclaimed, wiping the tears from her eyes. “I meant sex.”

Come to think of it, that certainly made a lot more sense.

“Oh,” he mumbled. If he was human, his embarrassment would’ve made him blush right then. I… I guess we won’t be needing this, then.”

He grabbed the case to hide it underneath the table, so they could forget about it and progress through the rest of that date as Meg had planned.

“Wait.”

Castiel froze and shot her a confused look. Meg had tilted her head and was looking at him as if something had just occurred to her.

“Did you really learn to play that in just two weeks?”

“I am an angel, Meg. I don’t sleep.”

Meg tapped unto her knee softly and then nodded.

“Let’s hear it, then,” she said. She turned around and headed for the kitchen.

Castiel was too baffled to react for a moment.

“Hear it?” he repeated.

Meg took out something from the oven. Lasagna, apparently. Castiel wondered if she’d cooked or if she’d simply bought it ready to heat up. Not bothering to put on mitts, she placed the platter over the counter and cut two generous portions in each plate.

“After dinner,” she determined, handing them to Castiel. “You’re going to give me a private concert, Clarence. Literally.”

Castiel was conflicted about that. On the one hand, he was glad all of his effort wouldn’t go to waste after all. On the other, what if just two weeks of practice hadn’t been enough? What if he made a fool of himself? He was embarrassed enough as it was without having Meg laughing in his face again.

His apprehensions were forgotten as soon as they sat down on the table. Meg asked about how Jack had been doing and they talked about him, about the Winchesters and all the rest for a while. It was… strange. If somebody had seen them right then, perhaps they’d had mistaken them for a normal human couple. But if Castiel adjusted his eyes the right way, he could see the darkness swirling right underneath Meg’s skin and he knew that if he touched her a certain way, she’d felt the hotness of the white light hidden inside his.

Perhaps that was exactly why they could feign this normalcy with such ease. In a world thrown into chaos, in roles that weren’t theirs anymore, they’d found each other in the middle.

Meg’s leg grazed his underneath the table. Her brown eyes were alight and he knew they’d be pitch black later, once they were together in bed and he was doing all the right things to get them to be like them.

“Alright,” Meg said, pouring the last of the wine into her glass. They’d drank all of it, but of course neither felt even slightly tipsy. “Guess it’s time for the concert.”

She rolled her chair backwards, holding the wine up in one hand. Castiel went to pick up the violin’s case. By the time he’d caught up with Meg, she had moved to the couch and made him a gesture to stand right in front of her.

“There. You look very pretty in this light, Clarence.”

Castiel accepted the compliment with a smile. He placed the case by his feet and opened it to take out the instrument, speaking as he did so:

“This piece was written by Edward Elgar. He was an English composer that lived in the nineteenth century. He wrote it for his fiancée as an engagement present…”

“Alright, spare me the history lesson,” Meg interrupted him. “I’m just here to hear some music.”

That was very much like her: eager, impatient. Castiel smiled to himself as he placed the violin underneath his chin. This was exactly the reason he’d chosen a very short piece. He moved his fingers to the right positions and placed the bow over the strings. As soon as he began to play the slow, sweet melody, as he watched her face staring back at him attentively with wide eyes and parted lips, another thought occurred to him.

He’s spent his entire life fighting or running and sometimes both at the same time. Even when he’d rebelled and fell from grace repeatedly, he’d never given himself time to appreciate small gifts like music and wine and sex, to learn new things with the infinite abilities that he’d been given. He wouldn’t have bothered exploring them if it wasn’t for her.

She was an oasis of peace in the madness that was his life. And maybe he was the same in hers too, and that was why, when no one was there to see them or judge them, they allowed themselves to revel in what humans would consider small and ordinary.

Because they could. Because this peace was theirs and no one could it away from his.

He let the last notes vanish in the air with a sigh of satisfaction.

“I lacked the accompanying piano,” he apologized. “But I think I did it justice…”

He was jerked forwards by a strong force and stumbled upon the couch, letting the violin unceremoniously escape his grip and hit the ground. It took him a second to realize that Meg had used her powers on him to pull him closer. The fact she climbed on top of him and engulfed his mouth in a fiery kiss was what gave it away.

“Oh, you did it just alright,” she said, her voice breathy. “Allow me to start with the encore.”

Castiel laughed as she moved to kiss his neck. Yes, at least for that night, life and its infinite, small pleasure, could be all theirs.


End file.
